Ghoul or No Ghoul: The Gang Goes to a Haunted House
by Obsessive Explosion
Summary: Sam, Dean, and Cas visit a haunted attraction where people have been actually disappearing, but what should be a routine hunt takes a dangerous turn when Cas is stabbed.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic, but there will be more to follow, and I figured a Halloween themed one would be a good start. Like it says in the summary, Cas gets stabbed, and there's a lot of angel whump. This chapter's pretty short (sorry!), but the whole fic is already written and will be posted chapter by chapter til right around Halloween.

* * *

Dean had never been to a haunted house. So far, it wasn't his idea of a good time. He'd thought it might be fun when Sam had first brought the case to his attention, a bunch of mysterious murders in the same city spanning almost ten years, all linked together by the fact that the victims had visited the same haunted house the night before their death. The bodies hadn't been found anywhere near the attraction itself, which is why no one seemed to have connected the two. It had taken Sam a lot of digging.

And now, the three of them were standing in the middle of a poorly lit room, and Dean was silently vowing never to set foot in a haunted house again. Well, technically, he'd been to plenty of haunted houses and would go to plenty more, but the real kind with ghosts and shit, not the fake kind with college kids in monster makeup scaring middle class families of four and high schoolers on first dates. He'd thought it might be kind of funny, and Sam had thought it might be kind of fun, and Cas had thought it was a thing that the Winchesters were doing and therefore he was doing it too.

So far, it was neither fun nor funny. First, they had charged each of them _twenty five dollars_ to even get into the place, and Dean thought this might be the most expensive stabbing he had ever done. And then, the house had actually had a really high production value. Which sounded good on paper, but in reality made everything much harder. First off, everyone kind of looked like a monster, which made it quite a bit more difficult to tell who the actual monsters were, especially since they didn't even know what they were looking for. And second off, it was _scary._

The haunted house was in a big warehouse, which was broken into five sections, each with a different "theme." The theme of the first section was zombie, and there were several zombie-related scares and zombie-dressed actors. So far, the three had made it through about a third of the first room, and everything was already going downhill.

A hand tugged at the sleeve of Dean's jacket. "That's it," Cas whispered in his ear. "That's the monster."

"Which one?"

Cas pointed to a zombie in chains and rags dragging itself one-handed across the floor. It was moaning inhumanly, and Dean felt an involuntary shiver run up his spine. God, this was stupid, he _knew_ essentially everything in the house was fake, why was he still on edge…?

"That's a person, Cas," he said, turning to the angel, who looked characteristically confused.

"Are you sure?" Cas asked, tensing slightly. "No person could sustain damage like that and survive…. You're much too fragile."

"It's makeup," Sam explained, for what Dean thought was at least the fifth time. "It's not real."

Cas frowned, his eyebrows creeping closer together, and Dean braced himself for the barrage of questions that was sure to follow. Nearby, there was a piercing shriek, and all three of them winced as a girl ran past them, dragging her date behind her. Cas turned to watch her pass, shaking his head slightly.

"I don't understand. People _pay_ for this?"

"Pretty messed up, huh?" Dean said, glaring at an actor who was lurking slowly towards them. The guy looked at Dean's expression and turned around, going after the easier prey of a gaggle of high schoolers clustered together near the entrance.

"I dunno," Sam said. "I think it's kinda fun."

Dean was in mid eye roll when he felt the air shift behind him, and long years spent keeping himself alive (mostly) engaged his hand before he had a chance to think. The zombie (no, not a real zombie, an actor) stumbled as Dean's fist hit his cheek, his hand immediately going to his face.

"Dude!" the actor said indignantly. "I can get you thrown outta here, you know."

"Don't touch me," Dean growled, knowing that he should play nice, apologize, but his bloodstream was singing with adrenaline and his hands were itching for a weapon, and anybody around them could be the thing that they were looking for.

"Hey, we're sorry," Sam said, glaring at Dean and stepping forward. "He's jumpy...I'm really sorry. Please, don't tell the manager."

The guy shook his head, his makeup smeared a little where Dean had hit him. "If it happens again…." he warned, shooting another look at Dean.

"It won't," Sam said apologetically, glancing at Dean. Dean sighed.

"My bad," he said, forcing himself to smile. "Sorry."

The actor flounced off, and Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Yeah," he said. "Fun."

* * *

Sam herded Dean and Cas through the first room as quickly as possible, thankful that Dean had left his gun in the Impala. That was one mess he wasn't sure they could get out of, what with the outstanding warrants in who knows how many states. They'd never exactly got the hang of "low profile."

"Goddamnit!" Dean said suddenly. He was close to Sam's ear, but he still had to almost yell to be heard over the sound of horror movie music, groaning, and distant screams. "How are we gonna tell who the monster is? Everyone looks like a monster in here!"  
"Is that...not what you expected?" Sam asked. He had never been in a haunted house before, but he seemed to have come in with a better general idea than the other two. He was a little jumpy, that was just biology, but he wasn't about to start punching workers. He knew all the monsters were fake. At least, aside from the monsters that were real.

"It's fucking spooky!" Dean said, then flinched an embarrassing amount when a zombie came up behind him and hissed in his ear.

"Dean, that's it, that's the monster!" Cas yelled, pointing at the zombie who had frightened Dean.

Sam wanted to sink down amongst the decaying plastic carcasses and filmy cotton spiderwebs and die. Every time Cas yelled that he thought one of the workers was the monster, more people looked over at them. And walking around with his almost forty-year old brother who still seemed terrified...well, that was just embarrassing.

"Cas, that's just a worker," Sam said patiently, wishing this damn place wasn't so loud, and he could hear himself think. "And Dean, if we don't find the monster the first time through, we can just go through again-"

"We might have to do this again?!"

Sam groaned. The trio moved past the barren desert-scape punctuated by squirming zombies, and were herded towards a thick metal door blocked by two "armed" guards. The guards said something to them - Sam couldn't make out what - and then they were pushed into a chain link elevator. Cold air was blown on them, and then a small spray of hot water. Sam flinched away from it. He thought a little had gotten in his mouth, and he couldn't imagine it was very clean.

They ended up in a mockup of an underground bunker that had apparently been ravaged by the zombie apocalypse. Sam frowned. This place didn't make a lot of sense - why were there guards if the safehouse had already been compromised anyways? Sam preferred more attention to detail in his haunted houses. But at least it seemed like there were less actors here, so they would have some time to think.

"See?" Sam said to Cas, who still looked quite on edge. "This is just like our bunker. Not that scary."

A zombie jumped up from behind an overturned sofa, startling Cas and sending him reeling into Sam. Dean also tensed at the noise, looking like he was ready to leap between Sam and the monster and start fighting. Sam put a quick hand on his shoulder, hoping that would be enough to remind him that none of this was real.

"We should see if we can sneak off the path somehow," Sam said. "You're right, I don't know how we'll find the monster without some sort of plan."

"Fine by me," Dean said, swiveling his head back and forth as he looked for workers. Cas also looked tense, fingers twitching as though he wanted to draw his angel blade. Sam sighed and scanned the room, spotting a small opening between two crates, each emblazoned with a biohazard symbol.

"There," Sam said, prodding his brother in the right direction. They crossed the room, trying to appear as unnoticeable as possible. Beside him, Cas frowned, staring at one of the workers across the room.

"Nope," Sam hissed, guessing Cas's intent. "Person." He grabbed the angel's arm and dragged him behind the crates.

"Okay," Dean said, looking instantly relieved to be out of the main area. "So what's the plan? Make ourselves seem like extra juicy entrees, attract the monster that way?"

"Yes, using ourselves as bait has always worked in our favor," Cas pointed out wryly, and Sam snickered. He didn't know when the angel had picked up the concept of sarcasm, but he'd taken to it alarmingly well.

"Well, we don't even know what we're looking for," Dean answered. "Could be anything. Ghost, ghoul, zombie, hell, even a witch."

"Don't worry. We'll come to you," said a new voice from behind them. Sam whipped around, and felt more than saw Dean and Cas mirroring him. Three "people" approached them, makeup obscuring their faces, making it impossible to tell what they were looking at. Sam reached inside his jacket, feeling for the hilt of the angel's blade he carried with him.

The speaker grinned, moving towards Sam. Sam drew back, sword held out in front of him, and prepared himself for the next battle.

* * *

Castiel hadn't really understood anything that was going on, up until now. Now, adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and there was a true enemy for him to fight, not just another human in stage makeup. Here, he was on familiar ground.

He flexed his fingers, letting his blade slide down into his palm, and closed his hand around it. Next to him, Sam and Dean were doing the same, each of them picking out an opponent. Cas chose the one on the left, moving towards her, rolling his shoulders slightly, settling into a stance.

The...girl, if that's what she was, approached him, knife appearing in her hand. Cas smiled slightly. She wasn't going to be anywhere near a match for him with a blade.

He closed the distance quickly, blocking her first strike with ease. He slashed at her stomach, and she twisted away, moving faster than he'd expected.

There was something nagging at him, some detail that he couldn't quite access, something he knew he should remember. Almost without thinking, he blocked her thrust to his stomach, twisted away from a blow aimed at his head, and parried a shoulder cut, trying to grasp the elusive thought.

He feinted towards her head, and her eyes widened, blue and fearful beneath the makeup. And in a sudden rush, it hit him. This was the dead girl, the one who'd just disappeared, the girl whose death had brought them here.

"They're ghouls," he shouted, hoping Sam and Dean could hear him, and drove the angel blade up through the girl's skull before the ghoul could react. Immediately, he retrieved his weapon and turned back towards the fight, making sure the Winchesters had their ghouls under control.

Cas barely had time to register what was happening as Sam flew by him, crashing into a wall to lie limply at its base. The ghoul Sam had been fighting pulled out the blade Sam had buried in its chest, chuckling. It stepped toward Sam, who seemed stunned.

Cas was already moving. He crossed the ground in a matter of seconds, not even pausing to shout Sam's name. He held the angel blade out in front of him. The angle wasn't right for him to stab the ghoul through the head in the first movement, but Cas managed to open a long cut down its chest that he hoped would slow him down. He barely even felt the bite of the blade in his own stomach, just the slight instantaneous weakening that was the first sign of any serious wound. Cas deftly switched the blade to his opposite hand, and then drove it through the ghoul's skull before it had time to move again. The ghoul's body instantly crumpled to the ground in front of Cas.

"Mine got away!" Dean yelled. "I-"

Then he turned back towards Cas, and froze. This was Cas's first real indication that something was wrong. With the sudden horror in Dean's glance, Cas felt the pain in his gut redouble. He looked down, and saw that the front of his shirt was sticky and dark with blood, a small neat hole in the fabric marking where the blade had actually gone in.

"Cas?" Dean asked worriedly.

"I killed two of them," Cas said, in answer to Dean's first statement. He put a ginger hand to the wound in his stomach, letting it glide over the surface of the injury.

"No, that wasn't what I meant," Dean said. "Did they...did the ghouls do that? With an angel blade?"  
"Cas is hurt?" Sam was already pushing himself to his feet behind Cas, using the wall as support.

"I-" Cas was about to say _I'm fine,_ but then all of a sudden a wave of dizziness washed over him and his legs went weak and shaky. He stumbled a half-step forward, hands stretching out involuntarily for something to catch himself on.

"Hey, sit down…." Dean murmured, grabbing onto his shoulder. Cas slid into a sitting position as his legs gave way beneath him, and Dean tried to guide him down, kneeling beside him. In a few more seconds, Sam was at his other side.

"Cas…," Sam said. "What did they do to you?"

Everything was getting a little fuzzy. He didn't know how he hadn't registered the pain at first, now it was steadily mounting, so intense it was hard to sit still. He made a small groaning noise, still cupping a hand protectively over his stomach. Silver light shone through his fingers, and he felt suddenly nauseous at the sight of his grace leaking steadily from the wound.

"It's okay," Dean said, and Cas registered the increased tempo of his words, the way he always sounded when he thought that things weren't okay. Cas had to agree with him - with his real meaning, that is. One ghoul had escaped, and they had no idea how many were left. And Cas had gone and gotten himself stabbed. There was a very real chance that things weren't going to be okay at all.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's the second chapter (it's a long one)! Two more chapters to come, I'll post them daily and the whole thing will be up by Halloween.

* * *

Dean knelt at his best friend's side, hands clamped firmly over Cas's. Sam joined him and Dean spared a moment to glance at his brother, double checking to make sure Sam's eyes were focusing alright, that the ghoul hadn't done any damage. But Sam was fine, which was good, because Cas clearly wasn't.

"We need to get the bleeding stopped," Sam said breathlessly, stripping off his jacket and the shirt beneath, then handing the shirt to Dean. Dean pressed it against Cas's wound, and the angel moaned slightly, twisting a little under Dean's hands.

"Sorry, buddy, but we gotta do this," Dean told him, trying to sound as light as possible.

Cas nodded weakly. "I know," he whispered, and Dean took Cas's hand and pressed it down on the fabric.

"Hold that, okay?"

Cas nodded again and pushed against his stomach, grunting a little with the pain. Dean squeezed his shoulder and looked at Sam.

"Dude, we gotta go back. He'll heal up okay if we can get him back to the bunker."

"No," Cas said suddenly, trying to sit up. Dean pushed him back down without thinking.

"Sit back down and let the people who weren't stabbed talk, huh?" He glared at Cas, just a little, but the angel ignored him.

"No," Cas said again, at least staying propped against the wall this time. "One of the ghouls escaped. There may be more, and they'll be looking for us." He broke off, gasping, and Dean shook his head.

"No way, man, you can barely string a sentence together. C'mon, Sammy, back me up…." He looked over at his brother, but Sam didn't jump to forceful agreement the way Dean had hoped.

"If we head back, we'll be walking into a trap," Cas warned, breathing hard. He gritted his teeth and continued. "Going on is our only option."

Dean scowled, knowing when he'd been beaten. "I don't like it," he said.

"Me either," Sam said quietly. "But Cas is right. In fact, the ghoul is probably heading back this way right now. We have to go."

Dean pulled his own shirt off and ripped a long strip off the bottom. He used it to tie the wad of cloth tight to Cas's stomach, so he could move without it slipping and reopening the bleeding. Cas winced at the pressure, hands involuntarily lifting in an attempt to push Dean off.

"Sorry," Dean said. "But I have to keep the bleeding stopped, or else I'm gonna be carrying you out of here."  
"I think it's too late for that," Cas said, lifting his hands so Dean could see that the cloth was already mostly soaked through with blood.

"Goddamnit, Cas."

"I-"  
"Let's just get you out of here. Come on, Sammy, help me get him up."

Dean looked up in time to see Sam nod tightly. "I'm sorry Cas," he said. "But this is probably going to hurt. Um, a lot."

"That doesn't matter, I'm very-"

Before Cas had time to think too much, Dean grabbed him by both shoulders and hauled him to his feet. Instantly, Sam was behind their friend, keeping him steady with a hand on his back. Cas whimpered once, and then visibly took control of himself, biting his lip to keep from making another sound. Even in the dim light, Dean could see that he had gone pale and waxy, the blood drained even from his lips.

The second Cas was vertical, his legs started to give way. Dean was alarmed at how weak he seemed. It was always jarring, the difference on Cas between the wound of a normal knife and the wound of an angel blade. If this were just a normal stab wound, Cas would have healed himself the second he got his bearings and he would be better by now. But with his grace leaking out of him there was very little he could do, and he was weakening at an alarming rate. Dean caught Cas against his chest as he swayed again, taking almost all of the angel's weight just to keep him upright.

"Alright, you good?" Dean asked. "Can you...can you walk?"  
"I can walk," Cas said. His voice was still measured and careful, the way it normally was, but it was very quiet. He made no move to actually step forward.

"I'm gonna-" Dean decided that the angel probably didn't care exactly what he was doing, and wouldn't be paying attention anyways. Dean carefully rearranged him so his arm was over Dean's shoulder, and Dean's other arm was wrapped around his waist. Dean wished that he could take more of Cas's weight, but he didn't think he could, not if they still wanted to move through the house and not attract any undue attention. He used his free hand to put additional pressure on the wound in Cas's stomach, hoping that would keep any more of the grace from coming out.

They took an awkward, fumbling step forward together, Cas nearly face-planting the second he needed to coordinate his own body. But he managed to keep his feet under him. Dean nodded slightly in encouragement.

"Okay, this isn't so bad. We'll get you out of here."

"And also kill the ghouls," Cas reminded him, taking another stumbling step. Dean shook his head. Cas's voice was weaker, yes, but his tone was no different, and he was still talking about the hunt at hand.

"One badass angel," Dean muttered, and Cas gave a weak chuckle.

"Warriors...of God," Cas said, and now Dean could hear the pain at the edges of his voice. "We're intended to be durable."

"Cas?" Sam said, twisting to look back at them as they came back to the main attraction. "How 'bout you ignore Dean and save your strength, okay?" Dean knew the look on his brother's face, he'd seen it plenty of times when Dean had been the one bleeding through a bandage.

"Sam's right, buddy," Dean said, glancing at Cas as he spoke. "Better just focus on walking."

Cas nodded stiffly, and Dean winced at the lack of color in his friend's face. Cas would be fine, he knew that. He'd heal, it would take longer, but he'd be fine.

Unless, of course, the ghouls caught them off guard again. Dean shook his head, banishing the unwelcome thought. He wasn't going to let that happen.

* * *

Sam led the way back to the attraction, one hand inside his jacket, ready to draw the angel blade. Before leaving, he'd taken it from the dead ghoul's hand and put it back in his jacket, still stained with Cas's blood. He felt his stomach twist, knowing Cas had only gotten hurt because he'd fought Sam's battle for him. His knife, his hands, his shirt, even the knees of his jeans were all covered in Cas's blood.

Sam knew that guilt tripping himself wasn't going to help matters, but he couldn't stop thinking about how if he'd been just a few seconds faster….

He looked back at Cas, worry redoubling as he saw Cas stumble, pain flickering across his face. Cas looked up, making eye contact with Sam, and Sam quickly turned back to scanning the room ahead.

"It's not your fault, Sam," Cas said from behind him. "And I'll be fine."

Sam shot him a grateful look, nodding. They'd known the angel for years, but Sam had never managed to get used to the way Cas sometimes seemed to know exactly what they were thinking.

They moved through the rest of the room quickly, Sam trying not to get too distracted by the uneven tempo to Cas's heavy breaths behind him. They seemed to have somehow cut off the majority of the zombie section of the haunted house simply by going through the side hallway instead, and for that Sam was grateful. He resolved to keep his eyes out for other similar shortcuts, although this time, he would certainly be on the lookout for ghouls as well. They couldn't afford another ambush. Well, come to think of it, he wasn't even sure they could really afford a shortcut. At least, they certainly couldn't afford to experiment with a route Sam wasn't sure about. Cas seemed close to bleeding out, he missed a step every few seconds, and kept stumbling heavily against Dean. Even though the haunted house was loud, Sam could hear Cas's labored breathing.

Soon, they had left the zombie section behind. There was a brief line in a dark room to get into whatever the next part of the house was - some sort of church thing, Sam thought.

"Hey mommy," said a girl who looked far too young to be in an attraction like this. She tugged on an older woman's sleeve. "What happened to that man? Why is he bleeding?"

"Oh." The mother turned around with a startled, embarrassed gasp. She eyed Cas, and made brief eye contact with Dean. "That's...that's just an actor, honey. It's not real blood."

"It looks real."

"Shhhh," the girl's mother whispered, clearly mortified. She turned back towards Cas. "I'm...sorry, she just gets excited about this sort of thing."

Cas didn't say anything. Sam saw Dean trying to subtly adjust him, so he was standing in a position that seemed more natural. The silence got slightly awkward, Dean too focused on Cas to respond. Sam wanted to jump in, but he wasn't entirely sure the woman had even noticed him.

"Well, I didn't mean to blow your cover, or anything," the woman said finally. "This place is really great, by the way."  
"Thank you," Cas said, voice husky with pain.

The woman and her daughter stepped forward, into the next section of the haunted house. An attendant held out a hand for the Winchesters and Cas to wait, not even batting an eye at Cas's appearance. Sam saw Cas sway alarmingly, and he added a hand to Cas's back, helping Dean support some of his weight. He could feel Cas's muscles tensing as he struggled to stay upright, but Sam's support steadied him. Then, the attendant waved them through and they entered the next section of the attraction.

* * *

Cas stumbled into darkness, straining to see whatever lay before him. Usually, he had excellent night vision, but his head felt foggy and his vision was starting to blur, and the pain in his stomach was making it hard to focus. All he wanted to do was lie down and curl around his wound, letting his remaining grace replenish itself, letting his flesh knit. His legs were heavy and hard to move, and every time he closed his eyes it was a struggle to open them again.

Cas shook his head, trying to clear it. He reminded himself sternly that rest wasn't an option, not yet. He was stronger than this.

Determined to stay awake and useful, Cas looked around the room, trying to get his bearings. A chill ran up his spine. They were standing in a desecrated church, and even though Cas knew that it wasn't real it still felt _wrong._ The altar was broken and the crucifix on the back wall hung upside down, the Christ child's mouth stretched in a horrible grin. Around the "church" were stained glass windows depicting horrible, profane scenes, human sacrifices and hellfire. A preacher stood at the lectern, screaming abuse and talking about the tortures they'd endure in Hell. He held a Bible in his hand, but the cover had been mutilated, a pentagram cut into the leather.

Cas shivered, unable to shake the unclean feeling beginning to grow inside him. The pain in his stomach seemed to double.

Beside him, Dean seemed unaffected. Cas turned to him, holding onto his shoulder desperately as he fought to keep from falling.

"Dean, this- this is blasphemy," Cas said uncertainly. It had been a long time since he'd been a true servant of God, but he was still an angel, and this was wrong.

"It's not real, Cas," Dean said, and Cas was silently grateful that Dean sounded concerned, not dismissive. "It's-it's just to shock people. You know, scare them."

Cas nodded, still unconvinced but unsure how to explain himself. The three of them began walking down the aisle, and a voice came from the pew near them, an old woman asking stridently if they'd found God.

"You have no idea," Dean muttered, and Cas heard Sam laugh. The sound made him feel a bit better. It was normal, safe. Everything would be alright. All of this was fake, and as hard as that was for him to remember, he had been reminded enough times to know it had to be true.

Cas made a small, involuntary whimper as he tripped on the uneven stone floor. He didn't have enough strength left to catch his balance, and he was so painfully dizzy he wasn't even sure which way was up. He felt his legs start to give way beneath him, and he clutched frantically at Dean, just trying not to fall. He didn't want to collapse, not here, not now, surrounded by fake bibles and eerie chants.

"Hey, you're good Cas, come on-" Dean put another arm around him, taking almost Cas's full weight for the few seconds it took Cas to get his balance back. The world was swirling around Cas, so badly he was sure he was either going to black out or be sick. But finally, the spinning eased, and he managed to push himself more upright again, still leaning heavily on Dean. He realized that Sam had a hand on his shoulders now too, also helping to keep him up. He didn't want to need it, but by this point it was very clear that he did.

"You ready to keep going?" Sam asked after another moment. Cas felt more than saw Sam's weight shift slightly, and he realized he was looking around. Probably because Cas was taking too long, and they were attracting attention. Cas bit back a groan, and nodded.

"Alright, let's keep moving," Dean said. His voice was gruff, but his hand where it was on Cas's waist was gentle, his thumb rubbing little circles into Cas's ribs. Cas focused on the grounding touch and forced his legs to keep moving.

They made it through the main room of the church. Now they were in what Cas thought was supposed to be one of the church's backrooms, expect there was also a chance it was unrelated. He wasn't paying much attention, and it was hard to keep all of this straight in his head. This room didn't seem very much like a church room. There were cages everywhere, empty but blood-stained. There were chains hanging from the ceiling.

In the corner, there was a sudden rattle. One of the far cages held...something that was mostly lost in shadows, but it was roughly human-sized.

Cas had a sudden, chilling thought. This would be a very good room for the ghouls to hide victims in if they didn't have time to remove them during operating hours. No one would question another limp, blood-stained body. They really had to find those ghouls…if only his legs worked better….

Cas flinched away from the screaming in the corner and moved forward as best he could, staying upright almost from sheer will.

* * *

Dean could feel Cas trembling. He hadn't said anything, and Dean knew he wouldn't. Cas fit right in with the favored Winchester method of first aid (don't do any, at least not until you fall down and don't get up), and Dean couldn't think of the last time the angel had admitted to feeling pain.

No, Dean knew from experience that Cas would keep going without complaint. Dean had learned to pay attention to other indicators, like the way he knew exactly what Sam was feeling by the twitch of his mouth and the lines around his eyes. Cas wasn't talking anymore, just stumbling along next to him, and Dean could feel him shaking.

Dean glanced sideways. Cas's head was drooping against his chest, his eyes half closed, sunken in his face. All the blood seemed to have drained from his skin, making him eerily pale in the darkness of the room. If they didn't get him out soon, they were going to end up carrying him through the remainder of the haunted house. Cas wasn't going to be able to take much more.

Sam looked over, face tightening with worry. Dean caught his eye, jerking his head towards Cas.  
"He's not doing so good," he mouthed, relying on Sam to read his lips. He didn't want to make this any harder on Cas by letting him overhear them.

Sam nodded, then looked around the room again. He shrugged at Dean, looking almost as frustrated as Dean felt. Of course, when you _wanted_ the fucking monsters around, they were nowhere to be found.

The three of them reached the edge of the cages and pushed through a tattered tapestry into a long room lined with paintings that Dean didn't care to examine too closely. There was another preacher here, surrounded by misshapen parishioners clutching their damaged Bibles. Above them hung another inverted cross, and Dean was momentarily grateful Cas was so out of it. He'd been really bothered by the earlier rooms.

Dean stepped forward, dragging Cas along with him, and then there was a loud scream from his left.

"REPENT," a voice shouted, and Cas made a horrible thin sound and lurched sideways into Dean as the preacher stalked close to him, waving his mangled Bible and mumbling in Latin.

"Hey, back off!" Sam yelled. He held his hands up as a warning, keeping the priest from coming any closer. "You're not supposed to touch us!"  
The priest made an annoyed sort of face, and looked at Sam like he was considering flipping him off for ruining the fun. But he retreated, giving the Winchesters and Cas some much needed space. Dean felt Cas relax ever so slightly, but he was still shaky and tense, leaning hard into Dean.

"You're alright," Dean murmured. "Don't worry, none of them are real, they're not gonna do anything…."

Aside from the one that had been real, who had stabbed him. But at least they knew they wouldn't get attacked in a room like this, there were too many other patrons around. It was the more isolated rooms that they really had to be worried about.

"I know it's not real," Cas muttered. His voice was small and tight-sounding. He was obviously exhausted and still in pain. Dean gave him a small pat on the shoulder, and then escorted him forward.

They ushered Cas through a few more similarly religious/torture-themed rooms. Dean could tell that Cas was still a little unsettled by the whole thing, and he understood why. But the angel seemed alright as long as no one got too close to him, and by the end his head was tucked into Dean's shoulder anyways as he struggled to stay conscious.

There was another small line to get into the next segment of the warehouse, which, if Dean remembered correctly, was themed "Asylum." That couldn't be too bad, right? None of them had any horrible scarring memories involving asylums, at least, not that he could remember. Well, no more horrible and scarring than they had with anywhere else.

Cas listed against Dean. "You doing alright still?" Dean asked. There was no answer. He jostled the angel a little bit, trying to see if he could get him to wake back up. "Cas, you okay?"  
"Yes," came a small, pained-sounding voice.

"You with me?"  
"Yes."  
Dean sighed. Cas didn't sound good. His voice was weak and small, and he was still so unsteady on his feet. Dean wondered again if they should just bail on the haunted house, and ask an employee if they could go out some secret back way or something. But since he had let the first ghoul go, he was sure they would expect that and be waiting for them, and Dean didn't think Cas could handle another out-and-out fight. And anyways, if they were to try to cut off the rest of the haunted house, they would obviously lose any chance at killing the last ghoul. By the time they managed to regroup and make it back, the ghoul would undoubtedly be gone, and any future deaths would be on their hands.

"Hang on, Cas," Dean told his friend. He didn't know if Cas was listening, but it always helped Dean to know that someone was there, even if he couldn't understand. The line moved forward, and he began to follow Sam. Cas didn't move, and Dean stumbled as he took all of the angel's weight.

"Cas, you can't give up on me now," Dean hissed, shooting a frantic look at Sam as his brother turned back towards them. He shook Cas, and he raised his head slightly.

"Sorry," Cas muttered, and Dean reached up and took hold of his friend's wrist, pulling more of Cas's weight onto his own shoulders.

"Come on," he said quietly, glaring at the impatient people behind them and stepping forward once more. This time, Cas managed to take a step with him. Sam hovered at Cas's other side, ready to lend a hand if necessary.

As soon as they stepped into the next section of the attraction, something jumped out at them. Dean had his hand on his blade before he could blink, and then Sam was shaking his head at him and Dean took a breath. The "doctor" in front of him gibbered, tearing at her lab coat and smearing her own blood across the fabric, but she didn't make a move to attack them. Not a ghoul.

Dean shook his head and moved Cas forward. "I hate this place," he muttered.

"I...agree," Cas said softly, coughing slightly. Dean turned towards him, relieved that he was engaging with the conversation, but the feeling turned sour as soon as he saw Cas's face. His lips were red with blood, and as Dean watched he coughed again, more blood bubbling from his mouth and trickling down his chin.

Even for an angel, that couldn't be good. Dean looked across the room, searching for the quickest route out. Thankfully, this room wasn't quite as dark as its predecessors. The whole thing was bathed in an eerie green light, like hospital fluorescence gone wrong. Bodies hung from the ceilings on hooks, some missing limbs, some whole save for the classic autopsy Y-cut. Some were moving.

Beneath the bodies, patients wrapped in tattered, bloodied straitjackets milled around, doctors following them with syringes and saws. Dean shuddered slightly, not wanting to take Cas through the throng of actors. He glanced around again, his eye falling on a black doorway in the corner nearby. He squinted, trying to read the sign.

"Hey, Sammy, can you read that?"

Sam looked over at the sign. "Yeah. It says 'Asylum Escape - Claustrophobia warning. Straight to….'" Sam broke off, grimacing.

"Straight to what?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Funhouse," Sam answered, looking almost comically upset.

Despite himself, Dean snickered. "Wouldn't be a haunted house without some clowns. Come on, Sam, let's skip to the good stuff."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here ya go, one more chapter left!

* * *

Sam was getting pretty tired of this whole thing. He didn't have the best track record with insane asylums, and he _certainly_ didn't want to have to see any clowns. Cas was hurt, but Sam could also tell that he was getting unsettled, and Sam thought the injured angel would be doing better if they were literally anywhere but here. The constant tension and jumping had to be taking its toll on him, and it seemed that he could barely stay upright now.

But none of them were claustrophobic, so far as Sam knew, so anything that cut off time spent in the haunted house had to be a good thing. The only problem he could foresee was that they probably couldn't support Cas in a very narrow space, so the angel would have to walk on his own at least a little.

"Cas?" he asked as they approached the tunnel. Right now, Cas was slumped heavily against Dean, feet barely moving as Dean shuffled them awkwardly forward. Sam couldn't tell if the angel was conscious at all, his face was turned away from Sam so Sam couldn't see his eyes.

Dean shifted slightly, jiggling Cas's shoulder until he lifted his head up.

"Cas?" Sam asked again. "We're gonna go through a tunnel, are you...okay with that?"  
"A tunnel?" Cas murmured. There was some sort of emotion behind the angel's voice, but Sam couldn't tell what it was. Maybe just pain and exhaustion.

"Yeah, but there won't be any monsters in there," Sam said, praying that it was true. "But it'll be a tight fit, so you might have to walk a little ways on your own. Do you think you can do that?"  
Cas made a small noise that Sam thought might be assent.

"You're okay with that?"  
"Yes," Cas whispered. He picked his head up to look at Sam, and Sam felt something in his chest twist. His eyes were dull and half-closed, his mouth ringed with red where he was starting to cough up blood. "I'm alright."

That was clearly a lie, but there wasn't much to be done about it now. They were at the asylum escape tunnel, and they had no choice but to try to make it through. The entrance was narrow and small, and Sam had to bend almost double to enter. Once they were past the doorway, it widened out a little bit, but Sam still couldn't stand fully upright and he was afraid it was going to narrow further again. The walls were brick and plaster, designed to look like patients had dug it.

"It's a tight fit," Sam said, raising his voice so Dean and Cas could hear him. He shuffled forward, letting them pack in behind him.

"Course it is," he heard Dean say, voice slightly muffled. Sam figured he was behind Cas, trying to keep him from falling. "You're a fucking Sasquatch."

"And you can stand fine?" Sam challenged, squabbling almost absentmindedly. It made the situation they were in feel a little less dire.

"No," Dean admitted. "It's tight for Cas, even."

"You okay?" Sam asked, hoping Cas realized that the words were directed towards him.

"Yes," Cas said tightly. "Let's...hurry."

Sam nodded and pushed his way forward, not enjoying the way the bricks scraped against his shoulders. It was uncomfortable, and he'd never had any sort of issue with tight spaces. He couldn't imagine doing this with anything approaching claustrophobia.

Ahead of them, the passage dropped lower, and Sam had to crouch down to get through the narrow space. His back brushed against the ceiling, and he winced at the thought of how much it would hurt Cas to get through the passageway. However, in only a few feet, the tunnel opened up, and Sam could almost stand.

"Hey, Cas, you're gonna have to bend down," he called.

There was a small miserable groan from the other side of the narrowed tunnel, and Sam heard the heavy sound of Cas sliding to the ground.

"You'll be okay," Sam said, hoping that he was right.

* * *

Cas stared miserably at the tiny aperture in front of him, the pain in his stomach flaring brighter with each heartbeat. He did not want to crawl into that opening. All he could think about was what would happen if his body gave out, if he collapsed and couldn't go any further. He'd be stuck, and Sam and Dean wouldn't be able to get to him.

"Cas?" Dean sounded worried, and Cas shook himself. He didn't want to slow them down any more than he had to. He took a deep breath and crawled into the darkness ahead.

As soon as he'd made it into the smaller space, he could feel his arms starting to tremble, likely from the exertion of holding himself up. He wanted to lie down, but then he'd be stuck in the darkness forever. Cas forced himself onward, shuddering as his shoulders scraped against the side of the tunnel. He wished he could go faster, but he was already pushing his exhausted body to its limit.

"Cas?" Dean asked again, and Cas realized he hadn't actually responded. He wished Dean would realize that he was...alright, as alright as he could expect to be anyways, but that didn't necessarily mean he had the strength to keep constantly responding.

"Just...give me a moment," Cas muttered, still working to force his exhausted body forward. He didn't like the feeling of the walls pressing in on him. He was dizzy, and he had a sudden, chilling fear that he would pass out in the small tunnel, and there would be no way for the Winchesters to get him out. He realized that it was impossible for him to turn around and go back, and he swallowed hard. He had to stay calm. He had no choice but to make it through the tunnel, and anyways, if his heart rate sped up that would only make him lose more blood.

"You're almost there, come on," he heard Sam say. Cas was too exhausted to give any sort of acknowledgement that he had heard, but he let his shoulder lean against the rough brick of the tunnel, too weak to stay up completely unassisted.

There weren't any small spaces in Heaven. He hadn't realized they made him uncomfortable until just now. But the brick pressing into his back and sides made him feel like he couldn't breathe, and worse, it made him feel like he couldn't _escape._ He didn't want to be here anymore. He just….

Cas crawled forward another few inches, eyes closed so he could save the energy it would take to keep them open. He tried not to think about the walls closing in around him. He tried not to think about how dangerous it would be to be ambushed in a small space like this.

And then Sam's hands were on his shoulders. "Alright, you're okay, I've got you…." Sam pulled Cas free of the tunnel and hauled him to his feet. He still couldn't stand completely upright, but it was much better now that he could lean against Sam and even though he knew the walls were close, they were not touching him.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, and Cas dragged his eyes open to focus on Sam's face. Sam was staring at him, eyes wide with worry.

Cas managed a small nod, and then there was a scuffling sound from the tunnel and Dean emerged, rising quickly to almost his full height.

"Cas? What's wrong, buddy?" Dean laid a hand on Cas's shoulder, and his eyes narrowed. "Dude, you're shaking like a leaf."

Cas realized dimly that he _was_ shaking, trembling hard against Sam. He glanced up at Dean, unsure what he was supposed to say. Apparently, nothing was the right answer, because Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and took more of his weight. Cas swayed against him, shamefully grateful for the help. He didn't think he'd be able to stand much longer, even with Sam's assistance, not with the way his legs were shaking.

"What happened to you in there?" Dean asked. "I thought you were stuck or something."  
Cas closed his eyes, a fresh wave of panic rolling through him as he imagined actually being stuck in the tiny tunnel, hemmed in by bricks and slowly bleeding out onto the floor. He felt his legs tremble harder, and he grabbed onto Sam. Dean's hand tightened on his shoulder.

"Hey…what's up? Are you claustrophobic?" Dean sounded worried, but Cas couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to reassure him. He thought if he did, he might pass out.

"No," Cas answered automatically. Then he paused, remembering how it had felt to be trapped, feeling like there was nowhere for him to go. He shuddered. "Maybe. Yes."

Dean squeezed his shoulder again, and Cas forced himself to open his eyes. "I can keep going," Cas said, trying to get himself to believe it. Sam and Dean exchanged skeptical looks, and Cas pulled away from them, reaching a shaky hand out as he stumbled heavily against the wall.

"Whoa there, tiger," Dean said, shooting Cas a sidelong glance and putting his arm around Cas again. "You can barely stand."

Cas groaned slightly, trying to ignore the pain radiating throughout his body and force himself to stand on his own. He pushed weakly at Dean's shoulder, but his arms were still shaking and every muscle in his body felt exhausted.

"I don't have a choice," Cas growled, and took a few steps forward, practically dragging Dean behind. "Let's just go."

* * *

Cas was still trembling so badly Dean thought his legs might give way at any second, and his face was completely drained of blood. However, his expression was set, and he hauled himself forward another step before nearly collapsing into the wall of the tunnel.

"Hey, I got you," Dean said, pulling Cas tighter against him. "Stop trying to walk on your own, we'll...we'll get you out of here. Sammy, check ahead. Does the tunnel narrow up there?"  
Sam shuffled a few steps forward. "Yeah," he said. "It narrows one more time, I think we'll all have to crawl. But that looks like the end of it, then we'll be in the next section."

"Alright, come on," Dean said, guiding Cas forward. Sam put a steadying hand on Cas's other shoulder, helping him stay balanced even if he wasn't supporting any of Cas's weight. They made it through the rest of the larger section of tunnel, moving slowly, and Dean took a moment to be grateful that no other patrons from the haunted house seemed to have opted to take the "escape route."

"Here's where it gets small again," Sam said. He was a few paces ahead of them, and blocking most of Dean's view. "Hang on, lemme see how it-"

Dean watched as Sam crouched, then went to his hands and knees. "This is...kind of a tight fit for me," he said. Dean knew for a fact that Sam was completely fine in small spaces, he always used to hide in closets or cupboards when they'd played hide and seek when they were little. But even he sounded the tiniest bit nervous now.

"No kidding," Dean said. "You're gigantic."

"Hey, I'm not-"

"They should have had a sign outside. 'No Giants Allowed.' I'm sure they don't want people getting stuck in their dumb tunnel."

Dean had mostly been trying to make light of the situation for Cas's benefit, but he realized he'd made a mistake when he felt Cas stiffen against him. "Don't...don't talk about people getting stuck," Cas whispered.

"Fuck, I'm sorry Cas," Dean said quickly, silently cursing himself. Just once, he should be able to keep his damn mouth shut. He glanced to the side, wondering if it was his imagination, or if Cas had just gone significantly paler.

"It's alright," Cas said, sounding as if it very much wasn't. "I'll...I'll be fine."

Sam looked at Cas sympathetically, then crawled forward into the tunnel. "Okay, this isn't so bad," he called back. "Besides, Cas is a lot smaller than me."

There was a pause, and then Sam called out again. "I'm out. Cas, it's just a short passage, then you're done."

Dean looked over at Cas, who closed his eyes. Dean watched his throat work, then Cas nodded.

"Almost there," Dean told him, lowering his friend gently to the ground.

Cas nodded again, and Dean crouched down beside him, not entirely sure how to handle the situation. He wasn't sure he'd really ever seen the angel this unsettled.

"We're right here," he finally said, patting Cas on the back and trying to ignore how much his friend was shaking.

"Yeah," Cas said, his voice even lower than usual. Without another word, he crawled painfully into the tunnel and Dean waited with bated breath. On the other side, he could hear Sam talking softly to Cas.

"Okay, Dean, come on," Sam called. Dean scrambled through the tunnel quickly, grimacing as the brick caught at his clothing. He couldn't imagine how Cas must have felt.

Dean crawled out of the passageway into a room filled with strobe lights and calliope music. Cas was leaning against Sam again, head down. Sam was looking frantically around the room, keeping an eye out for wayward clowns. Dean shot him a weak smile and laid a hand on Cas's shoulder.

"Hey, Cas. Ready to get out of here?" Dean asked, softening his voice.

"Don't forget the ghouls," Cas mumbled, his words slurring slightly. He coughed, blood spilling out of the sides of his mouth. Dean shook his head, exchanging a frustrated glance with Sam.

"We're...we're keeping them in mind," Sam said, and took a step forward. Cas stumbled heavily, and Dean looped Cas's free arm across his shoulders.

"Sam's gonna keep an eye out," Dean told Cas. "While he's watching the clowns to make sure none of 'em get too close."

Sam glared at him. "They could be ghouls."

"Sure, Sammy," Dean said.

"No one...likes clowns," Cas slurred into Dean's shoulder.

"Especially not Sam," Dean agreed. He wasn't sure if the angel was making some general statement about humanity or trying to defend Sam or possibly even revealing his own opinion on clowns.

"I think-"

"Try not to talk so much, Cas," Dean said, cutting him off. His friend's voice was small and pained, and he was very much struggling to stay upright. "Save your strength."

Cas made no response, which was what Dean had wanted.

Dean took his eyes off the angel for a second and spared a quick glance for Sammy. His brother looked better than the angel, obviously, but if Dean didn't know better he almost would have thought Sam was also hurt. He looked rather pale, and the funny lighting made it look like he was shaking, even though Dean wasn't entirely sure whether or not he was. He was glancing around frantically, and flinching every time a clown got too close. Luckily, this room didn't have a ton of actors in it, and Sam wasn't too hard-pressed to completely steer clear of them.

One of the clowns, this one holding a severed head and wearing makeup that looked like blood, got a little close to Dean. "Try that one!" Dean said, loudly in an attempt to be heard over the disjointed carnival music. He pointed at Sam. "He's scared of clowns!"

Sam didn't turn around, so Dean knew he hadn't heard, and the actor gave Dean a shrug, holding the head out menacingly like he wanted Dean to touch it. Dean gestured at his brother, and the clown shook his head. Dean smirked a little. Despite the circumstances, he would never miss an opportunity to make fun of Sam, and even if he couldn't shame his brother in front of the workers, at least in his heart he could laugh about it.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Last chapter! Happy Halloween, everybody!

* * *

They made it through the first room without incident, for which Sam was immensely grateful. Every time he heard that stupid clown giggle behind him, he felt a chill run up his spine. He understood now why Dean had punched the worker in the first room. He _knew_ it was fake, he knew it, but all his instincts were screaming at him that he was in danger. And outside that, he just thought it would be really cathartic to punch a clown.

Behind him, Cas was still stumbling wearily along, head down. Sam wondered briefly why none of the real workers had stopped the three of them and tried to figure out what was wrong with him. But he supposed it was dark, and the trench coat hid most of the blood. Maybe they thought he was drunk.

Sam heard another shrill laugh nearby, and there was a small whimper behind him. He turned around to find Cas doubled over in pain, shrinking away from a clown with a jagged Joker smile. Dean was shaking his head menacingly at the clown, gesturing emphatically toward Sam. Ordinarily, Sam would have been thinking about inventive ways to get back at his brother, but he was willing to do pretty much anything to keep Cas standing. Even if it meant dealing with clowns.

The next few rooms went by quickly, Sam doing his best to ignore the circus freaks and horrifying clowns dancing around him. He kept his attention on Cas, trying to keep the angel upright as he coughed blood onto the floor and stumbled along beside Dean. Finally, they made it to the last segment, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Cas had gone an unhealthy shade of grey by this point, and he seemed barely able to keep his eyes open. Sam didn't think he could stay conscious much longer.

In front of them was another line, and Sam shot a worried look at Cas, who was swaying silently in place. Sam hadn't spotted the last ghoul yet, and they were running out of time. It must be waiting for them in the final passage. Sam watched the line move. It looked like the workers were only letting a few visitors through at a time. Perfect for a trap.

The worker waved them through, and Sam and Dean pulled Cas into the next room. They took a few steps down the long freak show hallway, and Sam waited for his eyes to adjust to the murky light. He blinked, and his eyes caught movement.

"Dean," he hissed, and his brother nodded tightly.

"I see him," Dean whispered back. "I got Cas. Go."

Sam slipped his angel blade out of his pocket and approached the ghoul, his vision adjusting to the darkness. As he closed in, there was a flicker of movement next to him, and he shouted a warning cry.

"There's more than one!"

Sam's own ghoul suddenly closed the distance between them, raising a wicked-looking knife. Unlike the props in the haunted house, this one looked real. Sam caught the first strike near the hilt of his blade, then hooked the ghoul's legs out from under it. The monster slammed heavily to the floor, rolling out of the way before Sam could finish the job. It leapt to its feet, darting towards Sam, but Sam knocked the knife out of its hand and buried the blade in its skull. As the ghoul crumpled to the ground, a choked off scream rang out from behind Sam. He turned, heart leaping into his throat.

One of the ghouls had managed to back Dean and Cas up against the wall. In an attempt to separate them, probably to pick off Cas, it had seemingly hit Cas right in his wounded side. Cas was now on the ground, pale-faced and gasping for breath. He clutched at the wound desperately as more blood and blue-white light trickled through his fingers.

As Sam watched, one of the ghouls grabbed Dean's arm and snapped it in one smooth, fluid motion. Dean cried out, immediately stumbling backwards a few steps. His injured arm hung useless at his side. He had managed to somehow keep hold of his angel blade, which he held in his uninjured hand. But that hand was shaking so badly that Sam thought there was no way he could fight.

Sam threw himself forward. He managed to knock the ghoul off balance, but then the ghoul's legs were tangled in his own and they were both on the ground. Sam's head hit the cement floor of the warehouse with a sharp crack. But he was lucky, after two blinks the afterimage had mostly cleared from his eyes and he could lunge for the ghoul again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Cas trying to struggle to his feet, leaving smears of red on the wall. "Cas, no!" Sam yelled. The thought of the wounded angel trying to join the fight gave Sam the burst of energy he needed. Sam reached blindly with one hand and found the ghoul's throat. He shoved the heel of his palm into it as hard as he could, and was gratified when he heard a strangled choking sound.

Sam had dropped his angel blade, but with the ghoul pinned in place he had the few seconds he needed to fumble for it. His fingers touched metal. He snatched the angel blade up, and in the same motion he drove it into the ghoul's skull. Instantly, the ghoul went limp beneath him. Sam drew himself up to his knees, panting as he tried to clear his spinning head.

* * *

A third ghoul had tried to sneak up behind Dean. It was actually thanks to Cas that he'd been able to kill the sonofabitch without so much as a fight. He'd seen the sudden tightening of his friend's eyes, and trusting blind instinct, he'd spun around and struck out with his blade at approximately head height. To his surprise, he had buried the blade in a ghoul's skull, and it had immediately crumpled. He nodded, satisfied, as he heard Sam dispatch the third ghoul behind him.

It was a good thing this ghoul hadn't put up much of a fight. Dean was pretty sure his arm was broken. It was okay if he held it very still, tucked against his side, but if he tried to so much as wiggle his fingers it sent shockwaves of pain radiating through his whole body. His other hand was shaking, even though as far as he knew, that one hadn't been damaged.

"Is that all of them?" Dean asked, looking around. He half-expected more ghouls to start materializing out of the shadows, even though the hallway around them was silent.

"I think so," Sam said. "I _hope_ so." Dean watched, worried, as Sam pushed himself to his feet. Thankfully, he seemed steady. Dean didn't think he would be able to support Cas on his own anymore.

Speaking of Cas...Dean turned around, pushing the pain in his arm to the back of his mind. Cas was still slumped against the wall, trying futilely to push himself upright.

"Hey, Cas, it's okay. They're dead," Dean said, putting his uninjured hand on Cas's shoulder.

Cas blinked at Dean, and after an agonizingly long few seconds, he focused on Dean's. The angel nodded and his head fell back against the wall, eyes closing to slits.

"You gotta wake up, Cas," Dean said softly. "We're gonna get you out of here, but you gotta help us out."

Sam knelt beside them, and his sharp eyes went to Dean's arm, still tucked against his body. Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing what was coming.

"Dean, are you alright? That arm looks nasty."

"I'll be fine. I'm not the one bleeding out," Dean said, nodding at Cas. "Come on. You're gonna have to do the heavy lifting."

Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but Cas chose that moment to groan softly, his face tightened in pain. Instantly, Sam's attention switched to the angel, and he grabbed Cas underneath his shoulders and heaved him to his feet. Before he could take Cas's weight, the angel crumpled, unable to stand. Without thinking, Dean reached out his uninjured arm and caught his friend. He gasped, the movement sending a shockwave of pain through his system, but managed to keep Cas from falling.

Sam shot him a look, looping his arm around Cas's waist. Dean did the same, willing his wrist to stop throbbing.

"You sure you're okay to help?" Sam asked, the skeptical look not leaving his face.

Dean nodded, gritting his teeth. "I didn't break both arms," he pointed out.

Sam scowled, but apparently couldn't think of another way to protest. Slowly, they shuffled forward, Cas hanging limply between them. At this point, the angel wasn't even trying to walk, his feet dragging on the ground as Sam and Dean pulled him along.

"Still with us, Cas?" Dean asked, not liking how pale the angel had gotten, almost translucent.

Cas moaned slightly, probably as near to an answer as Dean could have expected. He didn't open his eyes, not even as his body shook and he began coughing again, more blood trickling down his face.

"Almost there, buddy," Dean told him, knowing that the words were mostly for his own benefit.

* * *

Everything had been reduced to a jumble of blurry, half-realized images and sounds, and Cas was having trouble forcing sense into it. He thought Dean was beside him, talking, which meant Sam must be here too. But opening his eyes would be too much work, and he couldn't get the words to make anything resembling sense. All he could really understand was the pain. And the weakness. He couldn't seem to get his legs under him, and he thought they might need to fight ghouls, and it would be very bad if they fought ghouls while he was still like this. That would put the Winchesters in danger. That would….

He realized he had one hand still pressed tight against his wound. He tried to press it tighter. That was the whole problem, _things_ were coming out of the wound, things he needed like blood and, more importantly, his grace. He tangled his fingers in the blood-soaked bandages that Dean had put over his stomach, and tried to keep everything in place.

Cas could hear that they were still in the haunted house. The world was a swirl of sounds, and it all kind of blended together. He could hear Dean, saying things that were probably nice. He could hear kids screaming, clowns laughing. A faint buzz in the background that could be a generator or a chainsaw or a vacuum cleaner.

He realized his legs weren't working. Hadn't been for a while. He tried to push himself to his feet. What if the ghouls attacked them? That would put the Winchesters in danger. He….

He opened his eyes for a split second, just to make sure they were still in the haunted house. They were. Everything around him was too bright, so he closed them again quickly.

"Hey, Cas." Sam's voice cut through the noise. Cas forced his tired eyes open again. Sam's face loomed in front of him, blurry and pulsing faintly in and out with the beat of Cas's heart. "We're almost out. Just down this last hallway, and through that little doorway, and then we're done."

Cas tried to nod, and he may or may not have succeeded. He closed his eyes again. Sam and Dean dragged him forward. He reminded himself that they were almost done, which was a relief, because he knew he wasn't doing anything and he still wasn't sure how much longer he could keep doing it.

But the ghouls, had they...had they killed them already? Or were they still out there? Cas was exhausted, but he needed to focus. Otherwise, that...that would put the Winchesters in danger. And that….

Cas finally succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

Sam was counting the steps to the Impala by the time he felt Cas drop. Sam caught the angel without a second thought. He'd been expecting Cas to pass out a lot sooner.

Dean gasped, and Sam glanced over the back of Cas's head to find his brother pale-faced and tight-lipped. He opened his mouth to ask if Dean was okay, but one glance from Dean quelled him. Sam concentrated on moving Cas forward, promising himself that he'd look at Dean's arm once they made it to the Impala.

It was only a few more minutes before they were standing by the car, lowering Cas carefully into the backseat, but it felt like an eternity. Cas hadn't revived, and they'd had to drag his deadweight the entire rest of the way. Now, he was lying in the backseat, head pillowed on his ever-present trenchcoat, covered by a blanket Dean had dug out of the trunk. His face was bloodless and grey, but Sam thought that the dark spot of blood on the blanket had stopped growing.

"He'll be okay," Dean said, and Sam turned toward him. Dean raised his good hand, giving Sam a smile that he could see right through. "I will be too."

"Let me see," Sam told him, and before Dean could protest, he took his brother's arm as gently as he could. Dean hissed through closed teeth, and Sam breathed a small sigh of relief.

"I don't think we need to set it right now," he told Dean. "You can ice it while I drive back to the bunker."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You? Drive?"

"Yep," Sam said firmly, holding his hand out for the keys and wiggling his fingers. Dean glared at him and dropped the keys into his hand, slouching into the passenger seat. Sam dug through the cooler and tossed Dean an ice pack.

"Ready to get out of here?" he asked, and Dean nodded with relief.

"Finally."

* * *

Cas woke to the sound of arguing. At first, he didn't quite know where he was. And then he felt the slight rock of motion and heard the soft growl of the Impala's engine. He was warm, and he was still in pain but he could tell as soon as he focused that the wound was finally starting to heal. Cas kept his eyes closed and let the sounds around him wash over him.

"I'm just sayin' could be easy money."

"No, we aren't opening our own haunted house, Dean."

"Come on, all we gotta do is find some spirit-infested dump, we're golden. If people wanna be scared I say we let 'em. Come on in, stay behind the salt, that'll be 50 bucks at the door, just sign this release form, standard stuff, don't sue us if your ass gets haunted."

"Dean-"

"No flaws, Sammy. This plan has no flaws."

Cas smiled softly and let the movement of the car rock him gently back to sleep. The Winchesters' words turned to nonsense in his ears, and blackness crept slowly in around the edges of his mind, but this time it was different. This time he was safe.


End file.
